All Boxed Up
by Myathewolfeh
Summary: 13 nations discover that being locked in a tiny room by a crazy, fangirling Hungary isn't exactly as unfortunate a situation as they thought. Lemon. America, Austria, Canada, England, Russia, Spain, Romano, Italy, Germany, Prussia, China, Japan, and France. Multiple pairings.
1. Rounded Up

**13 nations. One room. Countless possibilities~**

Warning: Some vulgarity, innuendo, threats, insults, a bit of noncon, use of aphrodisiacs.

Disclaimer: I did not create Hetalia, but I do enjoy exploiting the characters~

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><p><strong>Rounded Up<strong>

"Dude," Alfred said, his voice unusually loud as it rang off the close walls of the small room they were all crowded in. "How the fuck did we get in here?"

That was a very good question, one that everyone had been wondering for the last five minutes as they stood, crushed together like cattle on a train car, but Roderich had a strong feeling who could have arranged all this…

"I can't have lunch with you today, Roddy," Elizaveta had said earlier, and Roderich had thought it odd. His ex-wife always found time to have lunch with him… even if that meant taking off from stalking for yaoi anywhere she could get it. And she'd had that manic glint in her eyes… the one she usually had when she was talking about boy-on-boy action, which Roderich also found quite suspicious. He knew his ex-wife was obsessed, sure, but would she really go so far as to lock them in a space about the size of a walk-in closet?

Now that he thought about it, all the signs pointed to that possibility.

Earlier that day, just before the meeting began, he had seen Elizaveta putting something on the door they had gone through to get to the small room they were now stuck in. But Roderich had forgotten about it, and when break time came around they all headed for the door that read 'Patio', because it was a lovely, sunny day and quite honestly everyone needed the fresh air. Strangely, a select few other nations didn't follow. Roderich had thought he'd heard a faint snicker coming from Sadik as they all headed for the door, but then again the Turk was always snickering about something.

Naturally, when the first person entered and saw that it was no more than a large, empty, closet, they tried to turn around to exit. But, as a result of several hungry and bored nations being right behind them, everyone just kept piling in. The confusion arose until word got back to the people still standing beside the door, but by then it was too late to walk back out. The door slammed shut before anyone could even take a step, and they were all plunged into darkness.

The next few minutes played out as follows:

"Ow! Hey, dude, those are my toes you're crushing!"

"I can't help if my awesomeness is too big for this place, kesesese!"

"Ohonhon, Angleterre~your backside feels superb!"

"Er, France, that's not me you're touching."

"Da, and unless France wants to get his fingers broken one-by-one, I would suggest he keep his hands off my задница."

"Ve! Germany, Germany! It's so dark!"

"Italy, stop clinging to me!"

"Stop touching my fratello, potato bastard! … And stop breathing down my neck like a fucking creeper, Spain!"

"I am sorry, Roma, but there is a shelf above my head and… you smell like tomatoes~"

"Ai-ya! Who is pulling my hair?"

"Uh… Ch-China, I think you have it caught on a shelf… eh."

"Ugh… too close… my belly hurts…"

"Now, now, everyone, remain calm. I think Hungary might have done this…"

Everyone went quiet then.

"_I awesomely knew it!_" Gilbert exclaimed, making everyone around him groan and move away. "That chick is fucking crazy! I knew this would happen!"

Roderich rolled his eyes. "How kind of you to inform us of your foresight."

"Hey, you married the woman. If anything _you_ should have known, Rod-up-your-ass!"

"So vulgar. Don't call me that, dummkopf."

"Heh, can't change that it's true."

There was a flicking sound and Gilbert yelped. "Fuck, _ow_!"

"Say it again, and I'll aim lower."

Gilbert snickered. "Roddy, if you wanted to touch mein awesome five meters you just needed to ask, kesesese!"

_Slap!_

"Ow! No, Roddy, lower, lower!"

"Okay, _enough_!" Arthur yelled. "Who's closest to the door?"

"Me!" Alfred called. He was crushed up against the wall with Gilbert's back pressed against his chest. He managed to get his hands loose from where they were pinned between him and Gilbert and his arm snaked along the wall, groping until he felt the doorknob. He quickly grabbed onto it and jiggled it a few times. Everyone quieted down to listen.

"Fuck, it's locked."

Arthur gave a withering sigh. "America, you dragged a car for miles uphill. I most certainly think you can manage to open that door."

"Oh yeah, right," Alfred said, as though he had forgotten, and he shifted against the wall. "Uh… guys, I can't really move. Prussia, couldja scoot over just a smidge?"

"What? Oh, ja, wait a second." Alfred held his breath as Gilbert pushed past him. Then there was a bang and a hissed curse from Gilbert, and Matthew said, "Uh, yeah, that's a shelf. Watch your head."

"Awesome. Thanks for the information," Gilbert said sarcastically. Alfred was so unawesome sometimes and… why was the man whispering to him? He never whispered! _Whatever, _Gilbert thought, attention diverted by the situation beside the door.

"All right, America," Arthur was impatient. He was practically crammed into a corner with Ivan wedged between him and Francis's ever-groping hands. He didn't know if he should be grateful for that or scared shitless. "Hurry up and break that goddamn door down. I'm suffocating."

"Oh, nyet, comrade," Ivan said in his sickly-sweet voice. "If I was meaning to suffocate you, you would already be dead~!"

"Hahahaha! Dude, I'd hate to be you!"

"_America_!"

"Okay, okay, cool your tits, gramps, I'm on it." People moved a bit to give him some space, and he managed to pull his arm back far enough to apply ample force. He drove his fist forward and his knuckles connected with the door.

Nothing.

Alfred frowned. That had never happened before. Alfred had always been able to punch open doors. Maybe kicking it…

But that didn't work either and he stumbled into someone who caught him with a gasp. Alfred was grateful he hadn't hit his head on a shelf until he felt hands going up his shirt.

"France."

"Hmm~?"

"I _could _redirect my kicks to some very unfavorable places if you don't get your creeping hands off me."

Francis quickly snatched his hands back and huffed. "That is not fair, ami! You would never stoop so low."

"I beg to differ," Ivan said. "He tried to kick me in the balls many times in the past, but I broke his leg before he even came close. Ah, happy days~"

"Anyone gonna object if I throw the commie bastard against the door?"

"Oh, so Amerika is wanting more broken bones, da? After such long fighting and you never learning your lesson, I have the feeling that you like me beating you up, da?"

"All right, outta my way! Shit's goin' down!"

"No, America, you dunce! We'll all be flattened against the wall!" Arthur snapped, though he was mostly worried about himself. He was right behind Ivan, and God forbid if the two nations got into a fight now…

"Si, let's not fight, amigos. Maybe everyone will calm down if we can find a light switch?"

"Dammit, all right, let's—h-hey! What are you doing back there, bastard? Stop grinding into me!"

"I'm not, Roma, I'm just trying to find the switch."

"Ohonhon~I like how you think Romano~"

"Stop creeping, frog, and look for a switch!"

"H-Hey, guys…"

"Oh, but I wasn't the one having perverted thoughts, ohonhonhon~!"

"G-guys…"

"Well, if we're going to be feeling people up…" Gilbert said.

Then Roderich yelped and took a step back. "Keep your hands to yourself, heathen!"

"Guys…"

"Move it, people! I'm tryin' to kick this commie's ass!"

"Oh, you try, Amerika, but that is all you will ever do~"

"Hey…"

"Ai-ya, not here!"

"America, Russia! What did I say about fighting during meetings? Verdammt, this day…"

"Ve, Germany, make them stop. They're going to hurt us!"

"I foun—"

"Yo, we're on break, that doesn't count!"

"Ah, my belly, too close…"

"GUYS!"

They all stopped whatever they were doing and went silent.

"W-what the fuck was that?" Alfred asked tremulously.

Arthur sighed in frustration. "America, if we have to have another conversation about ghosts, I swear…"

"It's a _ghost_?! That's it, I'm busting down this fuckin' door!"

"Hehe, oh look~Amerika is panicking. This reminds me of our little spat a few years ago. It is so fun to watch when he is like this!"

"It's me!" Matthew shouted—well, not really, just loud enough to get their attentions—"Canada!"

There was silence.

"Who?"

Matthew sighed. "_Canada_, Al… _Mattie_."

"Oh… oh, yeah! Heya, bro, when did you get in here?"

Matthew huffed and ignored him. "Anyway, I found the light switch." He flipped it, and everyone groaned as the light assaulted their eyes.

Kiku gave a startled yelp. "F-France-san, what are you doing?"

Francis was standing with his crotch dangerously close to the shorter man's face from where Kiku sat on the floor, his knees brought up to his chest.

"Oh?" Francis said, looking down as though he hadn't noticed how inappropriate the position was—or that he had done it on purpose. "I am sorry, Japon. Pardon-moi." He winked as he moved away, though he was still considerably close.

"Kik, bro, I thought I taught you to kick creepers like that in the balls," Alfred said.

Kiku curled further into himself. "Hai, I will remember next time…" Though he looked a bit traumatized.

Alfred leaned against the wall. "_Great_. _Now _what the fuck do we do?"

"We could try banging on the walls," Toni suggested. "Maybe someone will hear and come get us out?"

Arthur scoffed. "Yeah right. Did you see how the rest of the nations were acting? They were in on it, I'm sure. No one's coming."

Francis leered. "Not yet~"

"You're just asking for a good kick in the bollocks, aren't you?" Arthur snapped.

"Don't you two bastards start," Lovino bit off.

"Ja, if you want an awesome fight pick it with me, kesesese!"

"East, shut up."

"Gonna be _so _fucking bored in here…" Alfred complained. "Fucking blows…"

"_I_ can show you what blows, cher, ohonhon~!"

"FROG!"

The room broke into rowdy conversation. Squabbles broke out here and there and all the while Roderich couldn't believe how unlucky he was. Why would Elizaveta trap _him_ in here, of all people? _Guess that accounts for how well our marriage went…_

_ … or just how mentally unstable she truly is._

Roderich took a moment to dwell on this thought, surprised to find that the talking had stopped. He looked up and saw something like a pinkish mist drifting to him from across the room.

"Whoa, hey!" Alfred exclaimed, backing up. "What the fuck is that? Commie gas?"

"Oh, how brilliant of me to lock myself in here with you then," Ivan flashed back.

"Whatever it is, do not breathe it!" Ludwig ordered.

"Ve~it's so pretty!" Feliciano reached out to touch it, but the German snatched his wrist up.

"Nein, Italy, do not touch."

"Stop feeling up my fratello, potato head!" Lovino growled as Toni was pulling him into a yet unaffected corner. "And I can walk on my fucking own, tomato bastard!"

"Everyone, get as close to the floor as you can," Arthur instructed, looking up at the clouds of mist swirling downward from the ceiling vents. He dropped to the floor and covered his mouth and nose with his sleeve. Everyone followed suit…

Except for Francis and Gilbert.

The Prussian was still standing, hands on his hips, laughing. "Kesesese! Nothing can bring down the awesome Prussia!"

Arthur rolled his eyes, and Matthew looked worriedly at Francis.

"Um… Papa, aren't you going to…?"

Francis gave him a smirk. "Ohon, I know what this is. And you cannot escape it. You will have to breathe sometime."

"Is it dangerous?" Roderich asked, pressing his kerchief to his nose.

Francis shrugged. "_Some_ would say it is." His eyes darted over to Arthur who was sprawled on the floor. "But I'm not worried."

"What sort of bloody answer is that, frog breath?"

"Oh, you will discover the answer on your own," Francis said with a wink that made Arthur feel a bit uneasy.

"Dude, France, stop fucking around," Alfred said, though his voice was more tremulous than authoritative. He was trapped in a room with all he knew was poison commie gas. That never happened to heroes! "What the hell _is_ this shit?"

There was a _whump_, and Gilbert sat back against the wall. They all watched him like eager scientists observing the results of their lab rat. "Nein… was? What is this… unawesome stuff…?" He was breathing hard, and he was slicked with sweat. He was restless, moving around and adjusting his legs. It was only when Gilbert's hand surreptitiously rubbed over his crotch that Arthur jumped to his feet and pointed accusingly at Francis.

"It's a fucking aphrodisiac, isn't it, snail slurping bastard?!"

Francis leered. "You are correct. It seems that Hungary has gotten creative." His smile grew wider. "And I believe you have just breathed in a good amount. But don't let that alarm you. I would gladly see you breathe it in _deeply_."

Arthur's eyes widened, and his hands went to cover his nose and mouth again. "Bloody pervert," he mumbled through his fingers.

As Arthur dropped back down, Francis laughed. "Ohonhon~! Don't be worried, Angleterre, this could be a good thing for you! I, for one, am eager to see that 'proper' side of yours disappear."

Arthur still defiantly covered his mouth, though he could smell that he was breathing in the aphrodisiac. Everyone else, meanwhile, was watching Gilbert carefully, as if expecting him to explode or grow two heads. But he did something very different.

He pulled the protesting Roderich over to him and forced their lips together.

Francis chuckled. "Ohon~gentlemen, start your engines."

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><p><span>Translation:<span>

задница-ass

dummkopf-idiot

Verdammt-Damn

A Word From the Writer: Just a little prelude to the orgyfest I'm planning on posting. You might have thought that this was the only chapter of this new series you would get today, but IT'S NOT OVER YET. I'll throw you a bone and give you another chapter in which multiple characters throw bones. *waggles eyebrows*

Without further ado, onto the smut!


	2. Cold War Whore

**The title says it all...**

Warning: Lemon, threesome, rough sex, insults, innuendo, oral, deep-throating, twincest, aphrodisiacs, cum-swallowing, voyeurism, Russia/America/Canada, virgin!Italy, creeping France, some noncon/dubcon, some PruAus.

Disclaimer: I did not create Hetalia, but I do enjoy exploiting the characters~

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><p><strong>Cold War Whore<strong>

Roderich didn't have time to frown disapprovingly at Francis's perverted laugh. Gilbert currently had a vicelike grip on his arm and was crushing their lips together. The Prussian's tongue jabbed at his wall of teeth, and Roderich squirmed to get away.

He finally managed to wrench their mouths apart, wiping his own in disgust. "Prussia, you insufferable schwachkopf!" He was glaring, but his reddened face didn't help to project his anger.

Gilbert's own face was pink, though more out of arousal. He was a bit confused with Roderich's rejection. Who wouldn't want to have sex with his awesome self? "Don't be unawesome, Roddy! You know you want mein awesome five meters, kesesese!"

"No! Unhand me! Let me go!" Roderich struggled to get away, but Gilbert snatched up both his arms, pinning them by his sides. The Austrian gave a little squeak as he was pushed down to the floor.

_Prussia's hovering over me, _Roderich thought as Gilbert straddled him. _Not good, not good, _definitely_ not good_…

"Prussia, if you don't get off of me right now—"

"Kesesese! You're funny, Roddy! Since when have your threats ever worried me? Kesese—ack!"

Roderich wriggled out from under Gilbert as the Prussian struggled to recover from being kneed in the groin. The Austrian crawled over to the nearest wall, and banged his fists against it. "Elizaveta! Open the door! I know you're listening!" He was _not _getting raped by Gilbert. He'd managed to get out of it once, and he didn't know if he could do it again. He was beginning to become unable to control his actions, what with all the aphrodisiac flying around.

"Ugh… why… why did you do that, kesesese…?" Gilbert began to make his way toward Roderich, but not before Arthur grabbed his ankles and pulled.

"No! Absolutely not while we're all stuck in here!" Arthur snapped, tugging Gilbert away from Roderich. Though it was difficult; he was getting short of breath and felt overwhelmingly hot. But Arthur _refused _to let Francis win, to just let everything play out for the Frenchman's twisted entertainment and then never hear the end of it.

Gilbert glanced back at him. "Kesese, oh, what's this? _Now _England decides to save Austria!" He kicked Arthur in the shoulder.

The Briton gave an 'Oof!' and Gilbert's ankles slipped from his fingers. He was about to go over and grab Gilbert again (he'd show the Prussian he couldn't just kick down a former empire and get away with it!), when Alfred pushed past him.

"Hey! No one kicks Artie except me!" And he leaped forward, tackling Gilbert to the floor. No, really, he couldn't give a shit who kicked Arthur. He was just hella bored!

Arthur grabbed onto Alfred's legs. "I didn't ask for your help, yank!"

Ivan laughed. "Oh, look~! Amerika and England are running around like dogs chasing their tails. So entertaining to watch, though it was better when I was the one causing it."

Alfred stopped going after Gilbert, who was pretty incapacitated with his balls nearly crushed by Roderich's well-aimed kneecap, and glared at Ivan.

"Shut the fuck up, commie."

Ivan continued to laugh. "There! That face! Oh, it's still so funny that you think it scares me in the least."

Alfred nearly bowled Arthur over (who was still hanging onto Alfred's legs) to get to the Russian. He looked murderous.

"I don't think I asked your opinion, ruski," Alfred spat.

Ivan smiled his fuck-you smile. "I don't _think_ I care about anything you say, Amerika."

"Oh, I'll _make_ you care."

Ivan chuckled. "Oh? Just like you 'made me' forty years ago?"

Alfred glared with all his might, fully aware that his whole face and neck were red and he was slowly burning up from the inside out. His brain was getting fuzzy, and it was hard for him to come up with a sharp comeback. "Yeah, well… you were just too busy hiding behind your wall and your pawns." Yeah, that sounded good…

_So good… _His eyes traveled subconsciously down to the bulge in Ivan's pants. His thoughts were immediately consumed with how that would feel in him… _So… he wants it, too? _He fought down a smirk. Even shit-brick house Russia wasn't immune to aphrodisiacs.

"As I recall," Ivan's voice brought Alfred back to the conversation. "you had your wall and pawns as well."

Alfred tried to stay focused. It really was hard… with _other things_ being hard as well. And such a fucking time, too. He didn't want to lose a fight with Ivan over a bit of arousal.

Okay. Maybe it wasn't _a bit_.

Alfred was sitting on his knees, and he found himself spreading his thighs wider apart as he spoke. "Well, it's never too late to… _have a go _directly at each other and see who wins."

Ivan caught on. Alfred saw realization flash behind his eyes. His expression took on an obvious smugness. He moved closer to Alfred. "Are you sure, Amerika? I am not one to take the _low ground_."

Alfred smirked. "That's all right. I always like a challenge."

His smirk was enough permission for Ivan to tackle him to the floor. Everyone yelled and jumped out of the way. Alfred's heart sped up as Ivan loomed over him. Even though he'd wanted it, it was still an unnerving position. But the stupid aphrodisiac was suppressing his worry. He'd never wanted anyone's cock so much before—_Wait, what?!_

And Ivan had never wanted anyone's ass so much. It must have been from the aphrodisiac, but a small part of him had always wanted to dominate Alfred in this way. It wasn't that he found him attractive—no, the American was repulsive. He just wanted to see the man he'd loathed for years writhing under him and begging for his cock, like he knew the little whore would. Because Alfred _was _a little whore. Many times during their spat, Alfred had always made a point of trying to seduce Ivan into fucking him. Well, more like playing word games with him and posing in lewd positions supposedly without his own knowledge. But every time Ivan had beat him up and sent him away. Oh, sure, Alfred had given Ivan a few scars as well, but those were trifles when compared to the deep feeling of triumph Ivan had when Alfred gave him that pouting face after he was rejected again and again. And he would return, again and again, like a desperate whore. Alfred had never openly admitted to wanting Ivan, though, oh no, that would have been a crime. But the American could have practically been screaming at him to do it with the other sly, quiet methods he used.

And now Alfred wanted it right here, right now, in front of all the other nations. Same American pig. Same desperate whore. Nothing new to Ivan.

"Wait, Russia," Arthur said, a bit worried as he scrambled away. "Take it easy. This is not the time for fighting—"

"Not fighting," Ivan replied as he straddled Alfred. "Giving the slut what he wants."

Arthur frowned in confusion and Francis laughed. "Ohonhon~this will be good!"

Arthur finally came to a realization. "Oh… oh no, you don't! This is absolutely inappropriate behavior—"

"I side with England on this matter," Roderich interjected, recovering and adjusting his ruffled clothes. "Highly crude. We shouldn't… we should…" Roderich suddenly became short of breath, and he was too overheated to exert enough energy to protest. Besides, he had a slight interest—maybe more than slight, though he didn't want to admit it—in what Ivan and Alfred would do next. It was all the aphrodisiac of course, but that didn't make it any less embarrassing.

Alfred was nervous. Definitely. How could anyone _not _be with a tall, cracked commie on top of them? Yet at the same time it was thrilling. Alfred had always wanted this. Ivan himself was horrible and certifiably insane, but that didn't matter to him. Ivan's cock was all Alfred wanted, and after seeing the size of the Russian's hands upon them first meeting (shortly following Alfred's revolutionary period) Alfred had constantly wondered—and fantasized—what could be hidden under Ivan's coat—well, besides all the shotgun shells, pickaxes, water pipes, and whatever the hell else he kept in there.

But Alfred was too aroused to worry about that, which probably wasn't a good thing.

Ivan smirked down at him. "Strip."

He backed off of Alfred so that the man could do so. Alfred smirked as he pulled his shirt over his head, almost giddy with excitement. He was finally going to get what he wanted. Screw everyone watching, they'd just be jealous. Alfred knew Ivan was packing some pretty heavy stuff, and he'd be the first (well, in the room) to get it.

As much as Arthur wanted to stop this, he was pretty much helpless. No way in hell was he getting in the way of what Ivan wanted. Bad things happened when someone did that, and he wasn't keen on having his face bashed in by whatever weapon Ivan chose to pull out of his coat. Beside him Francis was practically hyperventilating, and Arthur gave him a sharp nudge to the ribs to shut him up. The last thing he needed was Francis drooling on him… or worse.

Matthew, meanwhile, was worried for Alfred but very glad that he had become invisible again. Alfred was an asshole anyway—let him get stuffed if he wanted, Matthew certainly wasn't going to stop it. Though this was all really embarrassing… He just sat there, Yao and Kiku close by. Yao was shaking his head and Kiku had his phone out, recording.

Gilbert had recovered (somewhat) from Roderich's kick and was sitting there, gaping. What the fuck was the American dumbass thinking? Gilbert knew how rough Ivan could be firsthand, but _he _wasn't the one who had threatened to nuke Ivan for half a century. _Kid's out of his fucking mind…_ A little ways away from him, Roderich (although disapproving of their activities) was completely fine with Gilbert being a little distracted.

Lovino was mumbling how fucking weird things were getting under his breath, though his eyes were fixed to the scene before him. Toni couldn't say anything. Of all the times to finally consummate, well, whatever they had between them, why now? Toni had never been with Ivan, but by what he'd heard from Gilbert, the man was an animal. Yeah, like _that _had come as a big surprise, but Toni hadn't actually thought of being _witness _to it. Oh jeez, he was going to see Alfred die by cock today. How delightful.

Ludwig was shielding Feliciano's eyes and was grateful that Lovino was distracted enough not to yell at him for touching his brother. The Italian squirmed and rattled off questions in his grasp until Ludwig finally clamped a hand over his mouth and told him to be still. He really didn't know why he was doing this. He didn't even know if Feliciano was a virgin or not, but even if he wasn't a virgin he still wasn't going to let Feliciano see Ivan fuck Alfred to death. No… Ludwig had to bear witness to that now himself because both his hands were taken up. _And my dummkopf brother started it all… _He glared at Gilbert, but the Prussian wasn't really getting the full affect with Ludwig's gaze being directed at the back of his head.

Alfred decided to skip all the demure bullshit (like he ever was) and stripped himself completely naked, piling his clothes a little ways away from him. He could feel many eyes on him, but he could care less.

Ivan examined him, his cock coming to full mast in his pants (Jesus, what was in this aphrodisiac anyway?). Alfred leaned back on his hands, spreading his thighs to Ivan. _Come on, come on, _Alfred mentally urged. _Come and get me. _Yup. Baiting the bear. Nothing new. Alfred's eyes were fixed on the tent in Ivan's pants (Whoa, so Ivan really was a big boy) as the Russian lumbered over to him, still fully clothed. Fuck, Alfred was _dying_ to see his cock…

Ivan locked eyes with him, Alfred lowered himself to the floor, welcomed the Russian between his legs, and…

"Nyet," Ivan growled, sending shudders rolling down Alfred's back. "I will fuck you like the worthless bitch you are. Turn around."

Alfred gave a small whine (he'd wanted to see Ivan's cock, dammit!), but he complied, feeling a bit more nervous now that he couldn't see what Ivan was doing. But he could hear it. He could hear Ivan pushing aside his coat, unzipping his pants, pulling out his massive cock (the one he knew he had).

"Fuck, Russia, just do it," Alfred moaned, his mind a haze, pushing back against him and feeling the heat of his hardness against his ass. God, he wanted to be filled, _itched _for it.

"I want to use my whore again later," Ivan said, locking onto Alfred's hip with a firm, icy hand. Alfred gasped. "I don't want to break my toy."

Alfred frowned in confusion, but before he could ask what Ivan meant, slicked fingers were shoved into his ass. Alfred cried out and dug his nails into the carpet. "Ah, ah, Russia, e-easy, man…"

Ivan didn't say anything, only pushed his fingers deeper. And he was none too gentle. He smiled as Alfred yelped and writhed beneath him, the sounds making his cock jump. When his fingers were all the way inside, Ivan said, "Oh~your ass is eager for cock, da? Impatient _bitch_." On the last word, he thrust his fingers, and Alfred bit his hand to quell his voice. "If you want me, you will have to wait, da?"

Ivan gave Alfred no time to adjust; he made sure to stretch Alfred quickly and thoroughly, pushing a third finger into him. His aim wasn't for pleasure, but for speed. The drug he had inhaled was gradually pulling him close to the precipice of his arousal, and he'd be damned if he came before Alfred did.

Alfred, meanwhile, was chewing his lip, trying not to yell. But he couldn't keep noises from erupting in his throat. It hurt. It was rough, but Alfred liked it that way. It was pure Ivan, and it reminded him again and again that this was Ivan fucking him, and not someone else. And even though Ivan hadn't touched his prostate, Alfred was still deriving pleasure from his rough fingers. Just the feeling of being filled was enough to make his cock drool. Pretty soon, he felt as if he would burst. "R-Russia, enough. I… I can t-take you."

Ivan pulled his fingers from Alfred's ass, making the American arc and yelp. "Of course you can, little pig." Ivan smiled. "Such a greedy little thing. But that's what pigs are, nyet?" He leaned over Alfred, his front brushing Alfred's back and his hands holding tightly to Alfred's hips. His lips were soon brushing Alfred's ear. "You are always wanting more, da? Matvey's cock wasn't enough for you." His voice was low enough to send shivers through Alfred's body, yet loud enough for everyone in the room to hear. "Amerika always wants more. Bigger is better, da? Shameless swine."

"Russia…" Alfred moaned, blushing deeply, shivering when he felt the head of Ivan's cock at his entrance.

"Slut," Ivan spat simply and pushed in.

Alfred nearly screamed. Ivan wasn't big. He was _massive_. He couldn't recall having ever been stretched so much before. And with only saliva as lube, penetration was excruciating. He knew Ivan must know it, as he was chuckling the whole time. It seemed forever until Ivan was fully sheathed inside him. His cock reached depths Alfred had never even known were there. Oh, fuck yes. It was everything he had imagined and more, so much so that the pain didn't matter.

"Ah, fuck…"

"Hm, not yet." Ivan giggled. "You like big cocks, nyet? And you're a pig. You should be spit-roasted, da?" He looked around the room and smiled. "Matvey, why don't you use the pig's mouth? You know how good he is, I presume?"

Matthew's eyes widened and he paled. "U-um, R-Russia, I-I-I…"

"No need to be nervous, comrade." Ivan smiled. He gave Alfred's ass a harsh smack, and Alfred grunted. "You have done this before, da?"

_I really only wanted to watch… _Matthew thought before he was complying to Ivan's suggestion, because what dumbass would _refuse _the Russian? Well okay, maybe Alfred, but that was no surprise. He was a dumbass anyway, it was expected.

He tried to get there as slow as he possibly could without pissing Ivan off, but he eventually came to sit before his brother. Alfred peered up at him through his lashes, and Matthew could tell just from his gaze that he was in a state of perpetual arousal just from being filled.

Well, that was all fine and dandy for Alfred, but Matthew really didn't want to contribute under public scrutiny. Though, he had to admit, Alfred did look sexy with Ivan's cock stuffed up his ass. The Canadian wondered what it would feel like in his own ass…

Ivan smiled at him, which definitely broke him out of his reverie. "Go on, Matvey. Can't you see the slut wants it?"

Matthew swallowed and decided it would be in his best interest to unzip his pants. He pulled his semi-hard cock out of his fly, and he immediately blushed, trying to ignore all the stares he knew he must be getting, too afraid to look up.

Alfred, however, was looking up at him with want. It was that look Alfred always gave him whenever they were screwing around and just so happened to get aroused. And Matthew knew exactly what it said:

_I want your cock. _

Matthew shivered and presented his cock to Alfred, who instantly lapped up the side of it with his tongue. Matthew winced. Alfred had no shame. Then again, when did he _ever _have shame?

Matthew bit his lip to keep in a groan as Alfred took the head of his cock into his mouth and suckled fervently. As his cock came to stand at full mast, Matthew tried to ignore the murmurs circulating the room.

Holy shit! Gilbert knew how big Ivan was, but _damn_. Even Matthew? Well, whatever… his awesome five meters was still awesome. Francis was a bit stunned as well. He'd seen Matthew naked when he was smaller, yes, but the Canadian had never let him near him when he was older. He had his suspicions (well, from his circle of gossip, he'd heard), but he never knew how endowed Matthew was. He smirked. _That's my boy._

Arthur was close to gaping. It was a wonder that nobody noticed Matthew with, well… _that_. And even with all of this going on, he felt a stirring in his trousers. It wasn't helping that Alfred was sucking and licking Matthew's cock like it was a sweet. Where had he learned that? Definitely not from Arthur (directly…)!

While everyone was marveling over Matthew's cock and Alfred's talented mouth and tongue, Ivan pulled slowly out. At this, Alfred gasped and lifted his ass so Ivan could gain further access to him. If this was going to be their first and only fuck, Alfred wanted to make it _perfect_.

Ivan left him hanging for what felt like forever, and the aphrodisiac was burning inside him, making him feel so empty and wanting he could cry. But he only let an impatient whimper slip out and he took Matthew's cock back into his mouth to quell his other desperate noises.

Ivan smiled at Alfred's pleading whines and decided he would give the slut what he had wanted for years—and he would do it just how he knew Alfred would like it: rough.

So he slammed back in. Alfred was shoved onto Matthew's cock and choked on it a bit before coming up for air and screaming with the pain that coursed up his spine. Tears flooded his eyes.

"Heh, you like this, pig. You like my cock no matter how much it hurts you~" Ivan said, starting up a fast, hard pace that had Alfred rocking between both him and Matthew. The Canadian's cock speared Alfred's throat with every one of Ivan's pounding thrusts, and Matthew could feel his brother's throat constricting as if he was going to gag. But Alfred kept on, taking both Matthew's and Ivan's cocks into him with compliance, whimpers escaping around the swollen meat in his mouth.

Alfred's limbs shook and he felt like he could barely keep himself up. Again and again Ivan rammed into him, hollowing him out deeper than Alfred had ever been. He wasn't aiming for his prostate, only to satisfy his own pleasure, which made Alfred even hotter with a sense of submission. He didn't need to have his sweet spot pressed—just being full and the friction of Ivan plowing into him was enough to get him rock hard and leaking. And him blowing his brother was only heightening his arousal.

Arthur was stunned by the rawness of it all. Sure, he had heard rumors about how animalistic Ivan could be in bed, but he never truly knew until he was ramming into Alfred like a bull before him. And it was more than a bit terrifying, especially since Alfred was, well… Alfred. He couldn't help but be worried. _What an idiot, _Arthur thought, though his own cock was pushing prominently against his slacks. He felt an urgent need to take off some layers, but Francis was sitting beside him and he had a sinking suspicion that the Frenchman was doing some very… lewd things at the moment. He preferred not to look to confirm.

Matthew tried to keep his voice in check, but Alfred's tongue and mouth were doing wonders on his cock and he let a moan slip out. His fingers tangled in Alfred's mussed hair, pushing his mouth further onto his cock and rolling his hips softly. And Alfred, using his almost nonexistent gag reflex, took him until his nose was pressed into his blond pubes. For being a jerk most of the time, _this _was what made hanging around Alfred worth it. At least when he had a cock in his mouth, he couldn't say anything mean or just plain stupid. This, Matthew was not ashamed to admit, was how he liked his brother best: sucking his cock. And Alfred seemed as if he was built to do it for the rest of his life.

Matthew's fingers brushed over Nantucket, knowing that Alfred became a great deal more enthusiastic whenever it was teased. And Alfred quickly held true to it; he moaned loudly around the cock in his mouth and began to move faster, the sensations the actions had on his cock making Matthew thrust into his throat.

A few tears escaped from Alfred's eyes from the sudden depth at which Matthew skull-fucked him, but his own cock jumped at the roughness and he gladly accepted the new advance. Behind him, Ivan had taken hold of his hips, digging his cold fingers in and rubbing him raw with his thick Russian meat. On top of being impossibly full at both ends, Ivan was now starting to aim at his prostate. The force at which he was ramming into him was surely bruising the delicate organ, but the shock of pain it caused him turned into an intense arousal that had him moving his hips along with Ivan's merciless thrusts.

Alfred soon became breathless with pleasure and he took Matthew's cock out of his mouth to catch his breath and moan, "Fuck, Russia, yes~"

Ivan pinned Alfred's hips in place and ground into him. "It is not surprising how much of a slut you are. You are the most diverse country in the world, da? That must mean everyone in the world has _fucked _you." He thrust particularly deep as he enunciated, and Alfred screamed, everything in him tensing up before gushing out as cum through his twitching cock.

Alfred went dizzy and black spots clouded his vision. He felt as if he would pass out for a second, and then he was brought back to reality with the feel of Matthew moving his cock against his face. Alfred moaned and turned his head, not even having to do more than that for the Canadian to shove his cock back down his throat and start thrusting of his own accord. Alfred was so delirious and sated that he just held himself up and let Matthew and Ivan use both ends of him as they pleased.

Alfred's orgasm had had an effect on Matthew. Seeing Alfred completely undone and Ivan still plowing into him from behind, he began fucking Alfred's mouth, forgetting about everyone who was watching. Before long, he was moaning and pulling Alfred's hair, pounding Alfred's throat without care. And then he was coming, hot jets shooting down Alfred's throat and warming his stomach. Alfred thoroughly milked his cock with his tongue, swallowing as much as he could. But his own orgasm had made his reactions slower, and so he had trouble taking all of the cum. A trail of white made its way down to his chin.

Matthew took his cock out of Alfred's mouth for the sensitivity and leaned back on his hands, watching as Ivan fucked Alfred harder than he had before. Alfred was forced onto his elbows, the only thing keeping him up being Ivan's hands on his hips.

Ivan pulled all the way out and rammed himself back in so hard that his balls slapped Alfred's ass with a loud _smack_. Alfred let out a loud moan, followed by another hard thrust, and then a shouted, "Fuck, Russia!" and then one final thrust before Ivan unloaded his balls into him, flooding his insides with streams of hot cum. Alfred's moans weakened and a few more dribbles of cum burned out from his own cock. Half-coherent himself, Matthew lifted Alfred's face to his own, licking up the cum that had escaped from Alfred's lips before claiming them. Alfred gave a tired sigh and gladly opened up, allowing Matthew to slip his tongue in. After they had parted, Alfred's legs gave out and he collapsed onto his side, panting heavily, Ivan's cum running from his opened ass, the hole throbbing from the harsh dicking he'd received.

Ivan recovered quickly and sat crosslegged before him, smiling. "You are not bad as a bitch, Amerika. I prefer you with a cock in that rude mouth of yours. Perhaps I should have used that method earlier, da? A lot more effective than beating you up."

"Sh-shut up…" Alfred breathed, his eyes hooded, his body doused in sweat. He felt full and filthy with cum and sex… but it had been so good that he could care less about those things. Reality then struck him with the force of a freight train. He had completely forgotten about everyone who had been watching. He stiffened, chancing a glance up at Gilbert and Roderich who were in front of him, and not daring to look behind him to where he knew Arthur sat—in direct view of his open, leaking ass. He couldn't help but feel a little… ashamed. He had just let Ivan overpower him without so much as lifting a finger. There went his philosophy.

Matthew was still shivering with the aftermath of his orgasm, but his heart was pounding and it wouldn't stop. Oh shit. Everyone had seen him. Of all times to be seen, why did it have to be _now_? He knew he was blushing like mad, and he stared at the floor, too embarrassed to look at anything else.

Ivan was still smiling. He had done it. He had screwed Alfred. Literally. And it had given him a big influx of power. He always loved when he came out on top. Especially when no one expected it of him. He could feel the eyes of the others on his still-wet cock, which was certainly a good size even when soft. Was it envy? Jealousy? Fear? Want? He could sense a jumble of emotions from everyone, and his smile widened.

"The bitch has been put in his place," he said. "Anyone else have unresolved issues with Amerika? Go on, then. I do not think he would mind if you used him some more. It's what a whore does, da?"

Alfred's heart leapt into his throat with Ivan's words. Sure, Alfred loved a good fuck, but his ass was still aching from Ivan's onslaught. Not to say it wasn't a good ache, but he still wanted to walk after today. And now he was beginning to feel the effects of the aphrodisiac again. It was making him burn up with lust and making his insides itch to be filled. He was so tired, but he needed it. He was _so_ unfriending Elizaveta on Facebook after this.

Gilbert made a move toward Alfred who was too weak at the moment to get up, unzipping his fly. But Roderich lunged forward, grabbing him around the waist and pulling him back.

"No, you don't!" the Austrian snapped. "This is _not _turning into a—excuse my language—fuck-for-all."

"What do you expect me to do, then?" Gilbert flashed back. "Mein awesome five meters is not being so awesome right now. And it fucking _hurts_."

Just then, Feliciano wriggled free of Ludwig's grip and blinked. "Ve, what's going on? I heard some bad things, but—America, why do you have no clothes on? Are we playing strip poker?"

"Strip poker?" Lovino parroted angrily. "Who taught you that, Feli?"

Everyone looked at Francis. The Frenchman put his hands up in defense. "Hey, don't look at me! I only wish I could have gotten him away from Germany and his brother long enough to show him."

Alfred huffed. "No, Italy, we are not playing strip poker."

Feliciano cocked his head at him. "Ve, but it sounded like you were playing a game. And you told me you were really good at strip poker when you taught it to me, America. How come you lost?"

Even though it wasn't really strip poker, someone accusing him of losing against Ivan rubbed salt in his wounds. "Um, Italy, what you heard wasn't strip poker. It was—"

"Shut up right now, bastard!" Lovino snapped. "You already tainted him with your strip poker, but I will not let you sa—"

"What are you trying to say, Lovi?" Francis chimed in. Then he leered. "Ohonhon~I sense a virgin in the room."

Arthur scowled. "Now don't you start, wanker."

"Germany, I feel hot," Feliciano whined.

Everyone went quiet.

"This could be a problem," Arthur said.

"What're we gonna do with him?" Alfred asked, finally having the energy to sit up. He winced as he moved, the sweet ache in his ass accompanied with the itch of the aphrodisiac making him want to do nothing more than spread his legs and let anyone have him. It scared the shit out of him. "We can't just sit here and do nothing. We're all gonna fu—"

"Don't you say it, dammit!" Lovino shouted.

"… eventually, so…" Alfred trailed off.

Francis looked at Feliciano, tearing his eyes off Matthew's cock. "Italy, do you remember when you came over to my house?"

"Si."

"What!" Lovino exclaimed, fuming.

Francis ignored him. "And do you remember that book I showed you?"

"Che, what book, wine bastard?"

"Si," Feliciano said. "I remember. It was that sex book. You read it to me, and it was really weird, ve!"

"You did _what_, French fucker?!"

"Lovi, calm down."

"Don't tell me what to do, Spain!"

"Um, Italy-san."

"Si, Japan?"

"You saw my manga collection, right?"

"Si, it was very pretty. I like your art, Japan!"

"Er… arigatō, Italy. But you saw the hentai ones?" Kiku's face was at full blush now.

"Si, they were very interesting. I didn't know you liked those things, Japan!"

"Ohonhon, he most certainly does~!"

Kiku ignored Francis, his whole neck red. "And you saw the yaoi?"

"Si, it reminded me of Grandpa Rome. He always said it was a Roman tradition for men to have a male lover before getting married."

"Rome was a fucking sex addict, Italy!" Lovino barked.

Francis sighed wistfully. "Oh, if only that tradition had carried over… aïe!" Arthur pinched him hard.

Feliciano thought for a moment, then smiled. "I didn't know you were getting married, America! Who is she? Is she pretty? Ve, can I meet her? I like to talk to pretty girls!"

"Whoa, hold up, I'm _not_ getting married," Alfred said, though Francis was eyeing him. "_Ever_," he added for good measure, and Francis frowned. "I'm just gonna come out and say it. Italy, me, Russia, and Mattie were having se—"

"I'm his fucking brother, bastard, and only I can tell him that!" Lovino interrupted sharply.

"We don't have all fucking day," Gilbert grumbled. "If you're going to tell him, tell him. I am getting blueballs, and that is _not _an awesome feeling."

Lovino sat there, brooding for a moment, then shrugged Toni's hands off of him and huffed, "Fine. Feli, how far have you gotten with girls?"

Feliciano scrunched up his face in thought. "Well, once I was kissing a girl, and she told me to take my pants off, so I did. But then she said that she had to leave. It was weird, ve."

Lovino frowned suspiciously. "What did this girl look like?"

Feliciano smiled. "She was pretty. She had short hair, and she said she didn't like to wear dresses or skirts or heels, and she told me I was really pretty and would look good in a dress and bows…" Feliciano frowned. "Was I missing something, ve?"

Lovino facepalmed. "Fratello, do you know what a lesbian is?"

Feliciano blinked. "Ve, what's that?"

Francis's perverted laugh rang across the room, and Arthur elbowed him in the gut, sending him into a coughing fit.

"Nothing, Feli. I will tell you later. Have you ever done any of the things you've,"—he glared at Francis and Kiku—"_seen_ in those mangas and books?"

Feliciano thought for a moment and shook his head. "Ve… no, but it looks like it hurts. The bottom one is always crying." His eyes grew wide. "I don't have to do that, do I, Lovi? I don't want to cry!"

Lovino sighed. "Feli, did you listen to America and Russia?"

He nodded.

"What did you think Russia was doing to America?"

Ivan was smirking and Lovino was beginning to feel increasingly uncomfortable. "Ve… it sounded like Russia was hurting him, but… America said he wanted it…" Then he came to a sudden realization. "Russia and America they… they had…" He pouted. "Ve, I wanted to see it!"

"Trust me, Italy," Ludwig said. "You didn't." Really. It had been more like watching National Geographic than actual porn.

Feliciano looked at Alfred. "Did you… really like it? Did it hurt?"

"Uh, well…" Alfred said, feeling awkward. Ivan was looking at him with that smirk and he would rather jump off a cliff than validate him, but he didn't want to scare Feliciano at the same time. He sighed. "It was… fine. Really, it didn't hurt _that_ much. Heroes like me don't get hurt."

Feliciano blinked, squirming where he sat on the floor. "Ve, Lovi, I feel funny." His face was red and his thighs were rubbing together as he sat on his knees.

Lovino saw Francis fixing Feliciano with a predatory look but Lovino walked over to him and crouched down. "Feliciano, I could… help you."

"Ve, how?"

"There are many people who would take advantage of you," Lovino told him, flashing a glare in Francis's direction. "But I won't, Feli. You trust me, right?"

Feliciano nodded.

"Then let me do this so that you can understand," Lovino took his hand and pulled him to an empty spot on the floor.

"Lovi, what are you—mmf." Feliciano was silenced as Lovino pressed his lips to his. Feliciano's eyes went wide, but he remained in place until Lovino pulled back.

"Feli, you're going to have to trust me, okay?"

* * *

><p><span>Translation:<span>

schwachkopf-moron

A Word From the Writer: So I started out with some RusAme because America is always the one to start shit at inappropriate times. *shrugs* And he's also an ass slut. You _know_ he's an ass slut. And I just threw Canada in there because he always has the worst of luck and... I wanted to write some twincest.

As you already might have guessed, there will be more twincest next chapter! (This one considerably more scandalous). In other words... some Romano/virgin!Italy. *smiles evilly*

Idk when I will post next. I'm starting school soon again, so... let's just settle for a date of _soon_.

There shall be more smut to come!


	3. Fratelli alla Crema

**He's Extra Virgin~**

Warning: Incest, virgin, handjob, dubcon, some noncon, vanilla (as vanilla as Romano makes it)

Disclaimer: I did not create Hetalia, but I do enjoy exploiting the characters~

* * *

><p><strong>Fratelli alla Crema<strong>

"Feli, you're going to have to trust me, okay?"

Feliciano nodded and Lovino kissed him again, softly. "Are you hot, Feli?"

"Si."

"Then take off your clothes."

Feliciano stiffened. "But I thought you always said to never—"

"Now is an exception. Take them off."

No one snickered, no one leered. Everyone was eerily quiet. When Feliciano was naked, Lovino smiled, forcing it to remain on his face even as Ludwig was practically ogling his brother. "Ve, it's much cooler now! But, um…" He rubbed his thighs together.

Lovino swallowed and said, "Now I will, too…" He could feel eyes on him as he stripped away his clothes. He cleared his throat and looked at Feliciano. "Lay down, fratello."

Feliciano wrinkled his nose in confusion, but he obeyed. "Lovino, why do I have to—?"

"Shh!" Lovino hissed, not daring to look at anyone else but Feliciano. "Don't ask questions."

Feliciano shut his mouth and watched as Lovino pushed his legs apart and moved to sit between them. He leaned down to kiss Feliciano again.

Feliciano kissed back this time, thinking how weird it was that he was kissing his brother… well, not really. It was just a kiss, right? Brothers could kiss each other. It wasn't like they were doing any harm…

Feliciano stiffened when he felt Lovino's tongue running across his lower lip. He pulled back and blinked, eyes wide. "Lovino—" Oh right. He wasn't supposed to be asking questions. _Brothers shouldn't do this. Wait… France told me that doing it with anyone was okay…_

_ Well, since he's my big brother~!_

Lovino grabbed hold of Feliciano's arms and held them down, kissing him again. Ah, crapola. He could hear Francis breathing like an angry bull and surely Antonio was staring at his bare ass. The tomato creep.

But Lovino kept going. No way was he going to let anyone hurt Feliciano, even if his brother was a dumbass. And the only way to do that would be to take away his virginity himself.

_I can't believe I'm fucking doing this… _he thought as he finally gained access to his brother's mouth. He would have added 'in front of everyone' but he didn't think his mind could handle that fact at the moment.

Feliciano didn't really know what to do when Lovino's tongue slipped into his mouth. That kiss he'd had with that girl was long ago. She had French-kissed him, sure, but that only lasted until her hand had found his crotch to confirm his gender and, well… that had taken all of about thirty seconds. So he just went with it, tentatively touching Lovino's tongue with his own before he was engaged in a wrestling match that left him a bit dizzy.

Lovino drew back and Feliciano took in a gulp of air. Feliciano was still a bit apprehensive about all of this. Was this to become a regular thing now? Whenever Feliciano would call Lovino over to his house, would he open the door and be greeted with a tongue down his throat instead of the usual 'Che, ciao idiota'?

Feliciano almost gasped when he felt a flare of heat extend out from his abdomen with the thought. It felt weird! It was like he was cold at first, and then he became unbearably hot.

_Uh oh… _Feliciano thought, wishing he could close his legs. _I'm getting hard._

Lovino dove in for another kiss, feeling Feliciano's hardness brush against his leg. He took it in his hand, stroking it, and Feliciano groaned into his mouth.

In all honesty, Lovino had thought that it would take him a while to get hard in this situation. Feliciano wasn't particularly sensual. But he surprised himself when he began to swell and pretty soon his cock was pressed insistently against Feliciano's ass.

Feliciano squeezed his eyes shut and continued to kiss his brother, arms coming around his neck, holding him in place. He wasn't quite ready for Lovino to move on just yet. He was scared to even go on at all. He could feel Lovino's erection against him, and he didn't know if he liked it that close to his butt.

But Lovino was the one in control, and he would be calling the shots. Their lips remained connected as he put a hand under each of Feliciano's thighs and lifted them up and apart. Feliciano had been trying to close his legs for the majority of their kissing, and he was certainly alarmed when he felt them moved apart and his privates were exposed for the world—literally—to see.

Feliciano squirmed and whined, "Lovi…"

"Shut up and keep them spread," Lovino told him firmly and he felt more than a little weird saying that to his brother. His virginal, airheaded brother.

Feliciano blushed a shade of red that a tomato would be jealous of and obeyed. He didn't want Lovino to get mad… then he would start yelling, and that was _scary_!

Toni could not believe this. Was there something in that aphrodisiac that was making him see stuff that by all conditions could never _possibly _happen? But, he had to admit, this was really hot. Lovino and Feliciano had been so cute as younger nations, and as they grew older Toni began to imagine them in bed together, as they were wont to be… some unintentional touches… the more-often-than-not morning wood… Feliciano cuddling up to Lovino cutely—and discovering his brother's hard-on pressed against him… curiosity sending his hand down to explore…

_Ah, fuck. _

Hard. As. Concrete.

Every time.

Lovino tried to ignore everyone around him and sat back, examining Feliciano. He had seen his brother naked before now—if it was up to Feliciano, he would walk around the house naked for the whole day. It was rare, though, for Lovino to see him hard. And, not surprisingly, his erect cock looked similar to his own. It was swollen, flushed a deep cherry red, the head glistening with precum. Lovino felt his own cock twitch, and he leaked further when he lifted Feliciano's ass and spread his cheeks with his thumbs.

Oh fuck. He _was _a virgin. But had he really expected any different?

Feliciano's hole remained just barely opened, and Lovino could just imagine how incredibly tight he would be. He would have loved to dive in and go to town (because it really had been long since he'd had a good piece of ass), but from Feliciano's fearful whimpering he knew he had to loosen him up a bit.

He didn't have any lube, though, and spit wasn't going to cut it in this situation. He didn't want to scar his brother—both physically and mentally. So he turned to the only person he knew must have lube on him.

"Wine bastard." He hated asking when he was sitting there naked and between the open legs of his brother. "I know you have some fucking lube on you somewhere."

Francis blinked at him, coming out of a stupor. It was only then that Lovino noticed that Francis's hand had been… too near his own crotch for his taste. He frowned at him as he lifted it to go through his pockets, Arthur rolling his eyes.

"Here it is, cher," Francis said, tossing it over. Lovino caught the tube and was about to uncap it when he felt something else hit his side. He turned and looked down to see colorful bills fluttering to the floor. When he looked up at Francis the man leered and said, "For a wonderful performance so far. I have more if you keep it up." He waggled his eyebrows.

Lovino scoffed, uncapped the tube, squeezed the lube into his hand, and coated his cock. Then he squeezed another dollop into his palm and threw the bottle back to Francis—right at his perverted-ass head.

And he aimed good for once. Francis was rubbing a growing lump on his forehead as Lovino smiled to himself and looked back down at Feliciano.

"Feli, I'm going to prepare you now. It's best that you not move. It might hurt a little."

Feliciano peered up at him with wide eyes. He didn't say anything, too scared and too tense to speak.

Lovino held one of Feliciano's thighs as he prodded one of his fingers at his puckered entrance. "Relax, Feliciano."

Feliciano tried, but he was still tense. He bit his lip as Lovino pushed one finger in.

Lovino stopped moving the digit when he felt Feliciano's insides tense around him. "Fratello, you have to loosen up or it's going to hurt more."

Feliciano shivered and relaxed, though only a little. He really couldn't help it. He was too scared to calm down and Lovino's finger stung.

Lovino still noticed the resistance but decided he was through with waiting for Feliciano, even though he didn't want to hurt him. There was such a thing as being too careful. So he pressed on, sliding his finger in to the knuckle, all the while Feliciano's insides fighting to force him out.

Lovino stilled and examined Feliciano's face. It was flushed and scrunched up in discomfort. Lovino sighed. This was going to take more effort than he thought. He'd at least _hoped _that Feliciano had been a little curious and stuck something up there himself before now…

Lovino started moving his finger, hoping that would be enough for Feliciano to unclench, just a _bit._ But he didn't and Lovino huffed. "Feli, _relax_."

"I'm trying, fratello," Feliciano said, tears gathering in his eyes.

_Shit, I hope he doesn't cry when I'm fucking him. What a turn off…_ Lovino stopped his thoughts with how weird it seemed to be thinking about his own brother in that way. His own idiot brother. Lovino softened his features and looked down at him. "It's okay, Feli." His other hand went to Feliciano's cock, stroking it slowly. Feliciano flushed deeper and gave a little whimper. His insides finally let up and Lovino was soon pushing his finger in and out of him while making sure to pump Feliciano's cock to distract him from any discomfort.

Lovino was about to ask Feliciano if he was ready for another, but Feliciano wasn't really ready for any of this so he just took the initiative and forced another finger in. Feliciano yelped, but with another pump of his cock only little whines escaped. Lovino then struck out to find his sweet spot.

It was certainly a difficult task. Feliciano was clenching around him and squirming and it was hard to navigate. Lovino kept thrusting his fingers in and out slowly, stopping every once in a while to curl them and massage what he thought might be Feliciano's prostate. It took a while, but he found it, a little bump in the soft flesh that made Feliciano gasp when he touched it. Feliciano looked at him with wide eyes.

"Ve, Lovi… w-what is that? It feels really good."

Lovino could practically hear Francis's perverted thoughts behind him. "Your prostate, Feli," he answered and began to rub it. Feliciano sucked in a breath and let it out as a whine. When Lovino pressed it, Feliciano's voice rose in pitch and decibel until he was screaming with pleasure. Precum spilled over Lovino's fingers from where they were grasping Feliciano's cock.

When Lovino let up, Feliciano was panting, his ass clenching and unclenching around him. "Lovi," he half-moaned. "Per favore, do it again." His eyes were hooded and Lovino was shocked to admit that he looked extremely fuckable right then. He could see Ludwig shift a little out of the corner of his eye. _Those fucking potato heads will get off on this…_

He couldn't deny that he was hard himself, though. He moved his fingers in and out of Feliciano, striking his prostate every now and then and pumping his brother's cock. Feliciano was moaning now. When his hips began to move with Lovino's fingers, he couldn't take it and pulled the digits out faster than he probably should have. Feliciano yelped, but he kept his legs spread for him.

"Mi dispiace," Lovino said, but he wasn't looking at Feliciano. He was hastily lining himself up with Feliciano's prepared entrance. When Feliciano felt the cockhead against his hole, he peered up at Lovino with wide eyes.

"Will it hurt?"

"Just a little, Feli, but don't tense up."

Lovino wanted to—he _knew _he should—go slowly, but as soon as he entered Feliciano and felt how incredibly tight he was, he couldn't stop himself from pushing all the way inside on the first stroke. _There goes his cherry, _he mused wryly.

Feliciano cried out and arched his back. Tears were streaming down his face, and Lovino, for once, felt guilty.

"I-it hurts, Lovi."

"I know," Lovino told him and leaned down, kissing the tears off his cheeks as he pulled out, being sure to go in slower this time. Feliciano still whined, but it was more out of discomfort than pain. He continued with the slow, shallow pace until Feliciano lifted his hips to meet him. He took that as permission to increase his speed and depth.

Lovino aimed for Feliciano's sweet spot and he found it within moments. Soon Feliciano was moaning loudly, his pelvis rising in rhythm with Lovino's thrusts. There was a look of shock and arousal on his face that was mildly amusing.

Curious, Lovino asked, "How does it feel, Feli?"

Feliciano looked like he couldn't respond for a few moments, the moans seeming to fall from his lips against his will. He eventually gathered his breath and said, "Really good, Lovi, _so _good~" Feliciano was going out of his mind, he was sure. He was in disbelief to even think it, but this just might be… better than pasta.

It was only when Lovino took up his cock again that Feliciano _knew _this was better. He wasn't crying anymore, instead his voice was rising with each calculated thrust—the sharp pang of pleasure they caused—with each hurried pump of his cock. He felt something building inside him, an intense knot of heat and stiffness, and then he forgot everything outside his own arousal. He arched his back as he felt the burning heat creep up his cock and manifest itself in streams of cum. Feliciano was crying out nonsense as he ejaculated as far up as his chest. It was the best feeling in the world and he was instantly in love with the cock in his ass.

Lovino watched Feliciano come and was seized with a sudden desire to pound him into the floor. His hips snapped forward once, but when Feliciano gave a pained squeak Lovino quickly corrected himself. He went back to his usual pace, although it was hard to control himself, and he drew down to Feliciano, holding himself up on his elbows as he continued to try and find his finish. Below him, Feliciano was overwhelmed with his orgasm, his arousal perpetuated by his brother's thrusts against his prostate.

"Lo-vi-no, a-ah," Feliciano moaned between thrusts, finally finding his words. Lovino's face was close to his, and he wrapped his arms around his brother, feeling the sudden need to be close.

Lovino took in Feliciano's face. Flushed, tear-streaked, demure. He captured Feliciano's lips and hastily parted them before slipping his tongue into the sweet, moronic mouth. Feliciano moaned, lifting his hips so that all of Lovino's cock was submerged inside him on every thrust.

"Feli," Lovino groaned, forgetting about everyone and everything as he filled his brother's ass with his seed. He kept thrusting throughout, indulging in his brother's tightness until he was too drained to move anymore. Only when he finally caught his breath and looked down at Feliciano, whose eyes were wide, did Lovino realize he probably should have pulled out before he came. But Feliciano had felt so good inside that he doubted he would have done so even if he had remembered.

"Y-you—" Feliciano began.

"I'm sorry, Feli. I didn't mean to—"—he once again became aware of those around him, watching, and lowered his voice to a whisper—"_come_ inside you."

Feliciano wriggled around beneath him a bit. "It feels weird… all sticky."

"It will come out eventually."

Lovino normally would have kissed Feliciano for another good minute if he was a lover, but all of his past feelings flooded into him and he thought the whole situation bizarre and immensely inappropriate. So he pushed himself up and off of Feliciano, pulling out of him in the process. A trail of cum began to leak out of Feliciano's ass.

"Ve," Feliciano closed his legs, also aware of being watched. "I didn't know sex could feel like that, um… grazie, fratello."

"That is not the only way you can faites l'amour," Francis interjected. He sounded a bit breathless, and Lovino wasn't too happy about why that was. "There are many positions. What you and Romano did was missionary, but there are also—"

Lovino threw his pants at him before he could continue, and Francis got a mouthful of designer cotton. When Francis snatched the slacks off his face, he was leering and tossed more money at Lovino. "Merci beaucoup for the souvenir, cher. I suggest an encore."

Lovino rolled his eyes and felt a bit exposed being naked in front of everyone with their eyes all over every inch of his skin. His cock twitched and he covered his groin with his shirt to hide it.

Gilbert was squirming where he sat. He needed to fuck something now and _hard_. While everyone was distracted, he decided to grab for Roderich again, and this time he managed to overpower the Austrian.

Roderich gave a startled shout as he was forced to the floor and Gilbert straddled him. This time, no one moved to help and Roderich's stomach sank.

"You knew it was bound to happen some time, Roddy, kesesese," Gilbert laughed as he unzipped his fly.

* * *

><p><span>Translations:<span>

Mi dispiace-I'm sorry

A Word From the Writer: Heeeey, so... 's been a while, huh? Heheh. So, it's been a month, a really long month of school and bleh, but I promised myself that I would get a chapter of this fic done before I post one, just so I could keep up with it (unlike what I did with Standing at the Edge of the World. Phew, that was a marathon!). Well, here it is! And just because this chappie is kinda short for a month of waiting, I'm gonna post another tomorrow. Can you guess what pairing it will feature? (Hint: it involves vital regions and awesomeness.)

Hope you enjoyed the smut! See you next post~


	4. The Art of Penetrating Vital Regions

**Prussia invades... deeply.**

Warning: PruAus, Spain/Austria, threesome, dubcon (noncon if you squint), oral, masturbation, rough sex.

Disclaimer: I did not create Hetalia, but I do enjoy exploiting the characters~

* * *

><p><strong>The Art of Penetrating Vital Regions<strong>

Roderich swallowed as Gilbert unzipped his fly. He began to writhe when he saw the Prussian take out his hardened cock.

"What do you think you're doing? This is in no way consensual!" Roderich shouted.

Gilbert snagged his arms and pinned them to the floor. "You think something like that would bother the awesome me?" He laughed again and Roderich looked down. He frowned. Gilbert's cock was touching him. _Touching his clothes._ How vulgar, how obscene—

"Hey!" Roderich yelled as eager hands grabbed for his pants. Gilbert didn't say anything, only tried to wrestle the Austrian's slacks off of him. "Watch your hands!"

Gilbert didn't respond, only tugged at Roderich's pants all the harder. Roderich grunted and squirmed, Gilbert holding both his hands above his head with one hand, the other hand struggling with his trousers. The Prussian eventually gave up at that for the moment and undid his tie. Before Roderich knew it, his hands were being bound with it.

"Hey, Toni," Gilbert said. "Roddy's being unawesome. Come over here and hold him for me, huh?"

Toni sat there for a moment, just staring. After Lovino and Feliciano, he had a raging boner, and he wasn't sure if he wanted everyone to notice it just yet. But Gilbert was giving him that get-off-your-ass look and Roderich did look very tempting like that beneath him… he supposed getting close up to the action wouldn't hurt him. Besides, it looked like everyone had a hard-on by now, whether from the fucking or the aphrodisiac.

So Toni went over and sat so that Roderich's head was between his legs. The Austrian blinked up at him, indignant, only for his eyes to widen when he felt Toni take hold of his hands and pull them above his head.

Roderich's heart was pounding. He was stretched between two nations who couldn't give a damn about what they were doing. Gilbert finally got Roderich's pants off and the Austrian stiffened.

"Th-this is rape!"

Gilbert sniggered. "Oh, Roddy, both you and I know that isn't true, kesesese!"

Roderich frowned. "What are you talking about, dummkopf? I don't want this!"

Gilbert's fingers hooked onto the elastic of Roderich's underwear. "Really?" He pulled them down, examining him. He smirked. "It certainly _looks_ like you want mein awesome five meters."

Roderich looked down and blushed. He was hard. _Really_ hard.

"I-it's not my fault!" Roderich protested. "The aphrodisiac—"

"It doesn't have to be your fault," Gilbert said with a leer that Roderich didn't like. At _all_. "You're hard. And that's all the consent I need, kesesese."

"N-nein, that doesn't count!" But Roderich was beginning to feel the heat of arousal pooling in his stomach and spreading burning fingers outward. He found himself looking at Gilbert's cock. It was pale, fading into a deep flush of red amid curling, platinum pubes at the base. Veins pulsed on the sides and the shaft looked very thick. Thicker than any cock Roderich had ever seen.

And contrary to popular belief, he had seen his fair share. He wasn't _that _much of a prude, come on.

_There is no way that is fitting inside me, _Roderich thought. It would be a tight fit even if Roderich had been constantly fucked for a week straight. His love life had been a little dead for years now and he hadn't had a chance to properly masturbate and, wow, did he sound like he had a really lame life when he summed it up that way.

Still, Gilbert was way too big.

But that didn't stop the Prussian at all. He proceeded to slip off Roderich's underwear and toss them away. They landed on Arthur's head, and Francis immediately snatched them off of him, snickering.

"W-wait," Roderich said, feeling completely helpless and exposed as he was stretched between them and touched obscenely. His own cock stood a traitor between his legs; red and glistening with precum. Gilbert ignored him and ran his hands up Roderich's dress shirt. Desperate, and knowing that nothing would stop the Prussian, he looked to Arthur. But, of course, the Briton did nothing. Of course.

Roderich gasped as one of his nipples was pinched. "Hmm," Gilbert hummed disapprovingly, then he grabbed both sides of Roderich's shirt and pulled it apart. Buttons went flying.

"Hey!" Roderich snapped. "How dare you! Do you know how much this cost me?"

Gilbert snorted. "Oh, don't be ridiculous. This shirt is at least thirty years old."

"It was expensive back _then_!"

"Whatever," Gilbert smirked down at Roderich's flushed chest and erect pink nipples. "Mm, you know, Roddy, I don't think you've been cheap enough. Maybe you should go shirtless for a while. It really suits you, kesesese." He twisted one of the nubs, feeling like they were just begging to be teased. He rather liked the way Roderich arched and cried out. The Austrian's cock twitched, and Gilbert wasn't oblivious to it.

He leered. "Heh, you like this."

Roderich glared, a little breathless. "Only b-because of the aphrodisiac."

"Oh nein," Gilbert snickered. "I think it's because of _this_." He took his own cock in his hand and gave it a slow pump. Roderich watched and wet his lips. Oh God, why did it have to look so good?

Gilbert noted his staring, and he chuckled. "Looks tasty, doesn't it?"

Roderich snapped out of his daze and grimaced. "How crass!"

Gilbert rolled his eyes and looked to Toni. "Shut the lying tightass up for me, Toni." When Toni didn't do anything, only stared, at a loss, Gilbert huffed and extended his arm, palming the Spaniard's cock from where it was bulging hotly through his pants. "Using _this_."

Toni blinked in realization and his cock twitched. He quickly undid his pants and pulled it out, tipping Roderich's head toward him, pressing the slick, plump head to his lips.

But Roderich was _not _opening his mouth. He refused to allow anyone to see him sucking someone off… even though his whole body was heating at the thought of taking the Spaniard into his mouth. He missed Toni, more so than ever now that he was single and lonely. He found himself thinking more of Toni's cock and ass day by day, craving them. He wanted to taste Toni again.

Gilbert frowned at his stubborness. "Stop being such a prude and admit you want to suck him off, Roddy. Everyone can see it."

Roderich stiffened and raised his gaze to Toni and quickly found himself staring into the hooded eyes of his ex-lover—ex-husband. When he still did not do as he said, Gilbert grabbed Roderich's cock and squeezed, the Austrian gasping. Seeing his chance, Toni stuffed his needy cock into his hot mouth.

"Mmf!" Roderich huffed around the shaft, glaring up at the Spaniard. But he found that Toni was flushed down to his neck, his eyes nearly shut. His cock twitched in his mouth.

Ah, so Roderich wasn't the only who had wanted this. He ran his tongue over the shaft and felt it pulse and heard Toni moan. He began to suck in spite of himself.

"Hmm, you take to blowing better than I thought." Gilbert observed Toni's veined cock sliding in and out of Roderich's reddened lips and felt his own throb with need. "Maybe there's still hope for you, kesese." He grabbed Roderich's thighs and pulled, but the Austrian clamped his legs together, determined not to let Gilbert in. The Prussian glanced at Toni. "He looks like he wants to swallow you whole. Ram it down his throat."

Toni was surprised at how compliant he was to Gilbert's demands as he plunged his cock into Roderich's throat with one roll of his hips. Roderich gagged and coughed, and he forgot Gilbert's hands on him for just a moment. But a moment was all Gilbert needed. The Prussian forced his legs apart as Toni withdrew halfway from his mouth. Roderich gave a startled grunt.

Gilbert smirked. "Now you're cooperating."

Roderich began to vocalize profusely around Toni's cock, sending shocks up the shaft. Eventually Toni was forced to remove it to avoid coming too early, hand clamped around the throbbing base. Roderich gulped down air before saying, face aflame, "You'll have to stretch me first, you dolt!"

Gilbert frowned. "You should have thought of telling me that before you kept me waiting."

Roderich glanced back down at Gilbert's cock and his fear heightened. "Nein, please, I… I haven't been with anyone in… months, okay? I need some sort of preparation or I'll…"

"Jeez," Gilbert said with a roll of his eyes. "What a cruddy life you have. I'm glad I'm not you, kesesese!"

"Just do it!"

"Shut up and eat cock," Gilbert told him and nodded to Toni who filled his mouth again.

Gilbert looked down at Roderich's delicious body—who knew the prude was even capable of having one?—and felt his balls ache to be in him. To be in anything, really. Roderich was the most convenient thing at the moment, and it didn't help that he'd been wanting to make the snob take him up the ass from day one. A snob that looked curiously at home with a cock between his plump lips.

Gilbert inched his knees beneath Roderich's bottom. Not the most comfortable position, but it gave ample access to the Austrian's ass. And what a nice ass it was, round and pink, the rosebud winking at him. Yeah, Roderich _totally _didn't want this.

Something hit Gilbert on the thigh and he looked around to see Francis smiling at him and a tube of lube at his side. He gave a thumbs-up before lifting it, uncapping it, and squeezing some into his palm, warming it before prodding fingers at Roderich's entrance. He could feel the man below him tense.

"Don't act like a fucking baby. I'll be gentle," Gilbert scoffed and plunged two fingers in at once to the last knuckle.

Roderich screamed around Toni's cock and let it slip from his mouth, a trail of saliva following his lips. "You idiot! I told you I haven't had any in months—!"

"Ja, ja, I heard. Now stop bitching and get back to doing what bitches do best."

Roderich glared daggers, opening his mouth to spit back a reply, but Toni shoved his cock inside again. All the Austrian could do was whine and whimper as Gilbert's fingers forced their way inside him. A third finger was added far too soon and thrust along with the others.

Gilbert knew he should stretch Roderich with at least four fingers to accommodate his girth, but he couldn't wait any longer. The way the other country was sucking Toni's cock and the sounds he was making while doing so had his balls screaming for release. And, really, the man was just asking for it.

He dumped as much lube as he could onto his cock before lining up. He could feel Roderich's legs tense and the Austrian groaned around Toni. He placed the head of his cock to Roderich's entrance and pushed in.

Roderich screamed around the meat in his mouth, tears sliding down his cheeks as Gilbert forced himself into him. The Prussian didn't stop; he couldn't. Roderich's tightness was almost unbearable and if he stopped now, he might just come. So he pushed on through, knowing he was probably tearing something, but the blood that filled Roderich's passage made Gilbert's entry easier.

The pain was excrutiating, blinding. Tears rolled down Roderich's face and he couldn't stop screaming. He should have known that Gilbert would do this; the fool only cared about his own pleasure. It felt like forever until Gilbert was all the way inside him, his thick shaft filling him so much Roderich doubted he could move without tearing anything else.

When Toni saw Gilbert's hips meet Roderich's ass, he lost it. He knew how big the man was, and imagining all of that meat inside of Roderich sent him over the edge. Roderich was still whimpering when Toni exploded into his mouth, hot streams of cum shooting down Roderich's throat, directly into his stomach. Roderich gagged, but Toni held the back of his head, spearing his throat as deeply as he could, pumping his hips into him until he was finished.

Roderich was not pleased by Toni's sudden climax, but he savored the warm taste of him as he released down his throat. He swallowed all of it, Toni remaining in his mouth for a few more moments before pulling out, a trail of cum and saliva following. Roderich rested his head in Toni's lap, panting and whining, Toni's fingers running through his hair. Gilbert began to pull out.

"Don't!" Roderich snapped, heavy of breath. "I'm… not ready yet…"

Gilbert rolled his eyes. "You're such a girl." But he remained where he was until Roderich nodded for him to continue. Jeez, he didn't want the man sobbing the whole time. What a fucking turn-off.

Gilbert pulled only halfway out before thrusting back in. Roderich grunted in pain, and Gilbert went in slowly the next time, though it was very hard for him to keep his composure while doing so. He normally wouldn't be waiting on Roderich, but a locked closet was no place for a hemorrhage.

Roderich was surprised by it. Gilbert was not a patient person. He found himself moving into him, trying to guide Gilbert toward his sweet spot. It didn't take long for success; Gilbert's cock was so incredibly thick that it would be difficult for him _not _to find it.

Gilbert saw Roderich moving with him and placed his hands on his hips. He could feel himself heat with the sight and fought to keep from pounding him. Was it even _possible _for this stuffy man to look so sexy?

Then the head of his cock brushed over a little bump, and Roderich's back arched. "Ja, th-there, oh…"

That breathy, begging voice prompted Gilbert to linger on that spot, rubbing over it. Roderich moaned and writhed, turning to putty just like that. By _Gilbert _of all people. He couldn't believe it.

That was enough permission for Gilbert to pick up his pace. Before long he was pounding Roderich's ass, his cock endlessly teasing his prostate. That was the advantage of being thick. He could continue to please even without concentrating on his aim.

Roderich was being pushed further into Toni, and he could see the Spaniard's cock plumping up again. He took the shaft into his hand, intent upon swallowing him again, but Gilbert had other plans.

Roderich felt hands pulling him up and turning him around, and before he knew it he was sitting on Gilbert's lap, his back to him, his thighs spread and the Prussian's thick cock all the way inside him, pushing on every crease of his insides. _So full. _He could see all of the other nations watching him, some even jerking off to him.

Gilbert's tongue traced the shell of Roderich's ear. "Let them see you for the slut you are," he growled, and Roderich moaned.

He was so full, he thought Gilbert would never be able to move inside him. But he was wrong. The man grabbed his hips and lifted him up and plunged him back down onto his cock. The depth at which Gilbert thrust was close to mindblowing. Roderich hadn't even thought anyone could go so deep.

He was moaning like a slut and he knew it, but he couldn't stop. He began to ride Gilbert, spearing himself on his cock. Gilbert's hands were at his hips, guiding him down again and again.

"Mierda, Roderich," Toni groaned, vigorously fisting his own cock as he watched the scene before him, the others forgotten.

Roderich had forgotten himself as well. He was delirious with pleasure, his only urge to keep moving, keep feeling Gilbert's thick cock move in and out of him. Gilbert eventually tired of his pace and snatched Roderich to him, holding him upright as he plowed as deeply as he could into him, thumbing one of his pert nipples. By then Gilbert was fucking him so hard that his already skewed glasses slipped off his face, but he barely noticed. He could have sworn his prostate was being rammed further into his abdomen.

"Oh, fuck!" he found himself moaning. "Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!"

"Mm, ja, take all of my cock, you slut," Gilbert growled, losing himself completely and driving into Roderich so hard he knew it must hurt.

But Roderich was too close to feel it. Without so much as a touch, his cock shot a ribbon of cum into Arthur's lap before the Briton could move out of range. He lost count of how many streams Gilbert's cock forced from his own, but he could see that they had landed a fair distance away, painting the carpet white.

Gilbert didn't let up once Roderich was finished and slumped back against him. He continued to ram into him until his cock throbbed and filled his insides. "Mm, fuck!" He shot so much that his balls ached and actually felt like they _shriveled_ a bit. It was the perfect mix of pain and pleasure that just kept coming until his seed oozed out around his cock, dripping down the exposed shaft to Roderich's pulsing balls.

Afterward, Gilbert let go of him, and Roderich fell to the floor, shaking from his own orgasm. He looked up at Arthur, who appeared very unamused at the cum stain he had left on his trousers. "Sorry," Roderich managed before Gilbert pulled out of him, spilling his cum from his ass.

Gilbert smiled smugly down at the mess he'd left. "Heh, I think you're good for a few more months, Roddy. You seemed to really like my awesome five meters. Kesesese!"

Roderich was too tired to reply, too tired to be embarrassed. He knew he would be ashamed later, but at the moment he could do nothing more than fill his lungs and stare at the cum he'd left on the floor.

Lovino was frowning and glared at Toni. "Put that back in your pants, perverted tomato bastard."

"What's the point?" Toni said, hand still on his straining hard-on. "Everyone's already seen it."

Feliciano's eyes were wide. "Did he hurt you, Austria?"

Before Roderich could respond, there was a pop from the ceiling, as if a mic had just come on. Everyone looked up and saw a speaker positioned above their heads.

Alfred's brows came together. "What the fu—?"

"Greetings, my horny little rabbits!" the speaker blared. "And of course that didn't hurt him, sweetheart, he's wanted it for years. Trust me, I shared a bed with the man and he talks in his sleep."

Roderich flushed red. "Eliza!"

* * *

><p><span>Translations:<span>

dummkopf-fool

mierda-shit

A Word From the Writer: Two chappies in one sitting. That should be enough to tide you over until next post, right? So, did you think that Austria would take it up the ass this soon? Well, we can all agree he definitely needed it. And why not throw Spain in there as well? The more the hotter, I say!

See you next post! (Hint: the perv and the "prude." Toys may or may not be involved... also, who will top?)

X3


	5. How to Fill French Éclairs

**With a delicious cr****ème anglaise~  
><strong>

**(Shut up, I don't bake)**

Warning: Smut, FrUK, toys, oral, ass-to-mouth, orgasm denial, rough sex, anal stretching, cum-swallowing, masturbation, implied USUK and Franada, some CanUS.

Disclaimer: I did not create Hetalia, but I do enjoy exploiting the characters~

* * *

><p><strong>How to Fill French Éclairs<strong>

"Eliza!"

"Yes, hon? Why do you sound so upset? It looks to me like you just got a very good fuck. Or do you act as well as you play the piano?"

"Why the bloody hell did you lock us in here?" Arthur shouted up at her, looking attractive even when annoyed, Francis noted for perhaps the billionth time. Did Arthur know that was why he was so eager to fight with him all the time? _Ohonhon~_

"Crazy bitch…" Gilbert muttered under his breath.

"I heard that, Prussia! And unless you want to be soaked to your skin for the rest of your stay here, I suggest you can the insults. I can easily turn on the sprinklers! Anyway, you wouldn't be in here in the first place if you'd had enough sense not to cram yourselves into a tiny space like cattle. I can't believe it actually worked! I've been planning this for a year!"

Ivan was unimpressed and annoyed. "You planned to lock us in a closet?"

Elizaveta laughed. "Oh no, I planned to lock you in a closet knowing that at least one of you would start the fuckfest. But you were too slow for my taste, so I had to pump the aphrodisiac in sooner than I would have liked. Now I'm short of the stuff." She sighed. "But no worries. I have another shipment arriving tomorrow."

Kiku stiffened. "You… plan to keep us in here until tomorrow?"

"Why yes, my cute little dumpling. I need as much film as I can get."

"Film?" they all said at once, aghast.

"Yes, film. You know, I _have _enjoyed sneaking around and recording all of your trysts—don't worry, Roddy, you may have been alone, but I still got some nice footage. Superb solos. Why couldn't you be that creative when we were married? Selfish jerk—but my viewers have demanded recently that I arrange an orgy of sorts. And since you are all my most requested nations—and since I knew under any normal circumstances you would never agree to participate—the Box was born!"

Lovino wrinkled his nose. "What the fuck is 'the Box'?"

"Good question, my little tomato. It is a small room I designed to ensure uncomfortable closeness and eventual sexiness. It has vents for aphrodisiac injection, and in those boxes on the shelves you will find an array of sexual items for your enjoyment."

"I commend you on your genius, Hungary," Francis said, and everyone glared. "But how long do you plan to keep us in here? Certain… biological processes tend to disrupt total captivity, non?"

"No problem! Just reach under that shelf at the back and you'll feel a latch. Pull it, and it becomes a door. It leads to the bathroom with all the needed facilities."

"What about food?" Alfred asked.

"I will feed you when I see fit. And the amount—and quality—you get depends on how well you entertain my cameras. Oh, don't bother looking around for them," she said as they all began scanning the ceiling and walls and shelves. "I hid them well. You won't find them, I assure you. I _have _been doing this kind of thing for a while, you know.

"Now I will be keeping you in the Box for, hmmm, four days. That should be enough time to do what you need to do. Though if I am dissatisfied I will extend the period. I can keep you alive for weeks if I have to. I told you, I _did _plan. And don't worry about your bosses. I told them that you had decided to stay for a short time extra to further discuss your plans and that they should not contact you in case they disrupt you. As for the other nations," she giggled a bit, "all of them are pretty much in on it, but they all have a vendetta against at least one of you, so they won't come for you—and some are planning on purchasing the tapes I sell of your activities. Don't even think about just waiting me out. I can withhold food for as long as it takes for obedience and I have plenty of aphrodisiac left to drive you out of your minds.

"Until we meet again, my dears. Keep up the good work!" And the speaker clicked off.

"What _the fuck_ was that?" Alfred asked.

"The voice of a crazy woman," Gilbert replied.

"She… she can't possibly mean to keep us in here for _days_?" Arthur was aghast at the mere sound of it.

Francis slung an arm over the Briton's shoulders. "Aw, you dislike the idea of being stuck in here with moi? You wound me, Angleterre."

Arthur glared and shoved his hand away. "Get off me, frog. That bloody woman can say what she wants, but she will not see anything from me!"

"Dude, Artie," Alfred said. "She judges us _as a whole._ If you don't do it, we _all _don't eat."

Arthur scoffed and crossed his arms. "I survived on my pirate ship with naught to eat for weeks. I can certainly survive this."

Everyone stared at him in disbelief before they all looked at Francis.

"Get him, France," Alfred said, and Francis happily obliged.

"You sodding little traitor!" Arthur spat. "I should have known—!" But he was already pinned to the floor, the Frenchman sitting on his legs and holding his arms down.

"Ohonhonhon~! You cannot escape me, Angleterre! There is nowhere to run!" He smiled creepily down at Arthur while the Briton tried to hide how scared shitless the expression made him. He squirmed and kicked, but Francis wouldn't budge. The older man turned around to face the onlookers.

"So, since you all were so kind as to let me have him first, how should I take him?"

"Take?!" Arthur shouted before getting his legs loose and wrapping them around Francis's torso. Francis gave a squeak of surprise as he was rolled over, Arthur then pinning _him _to the floor. He saw the others move in from the corner of his eye.

"Stay where you are!" Arthur told them. "I won't let this sod go without showing him who takes who."

Francis smirked up at him. "Either way I don't mind, cher. As long as you do a good job of it."

Arthur laughed. "When have you ever known me not to do a good job of anything?"

Before Francis could respond, Arthur seized his lips. Francis was in pure shock, to say the least. Just as he was parting Arthur's lips, the Brit withdrew, and Francis felt a sudden… nakedness from his waist down. He smirked up at him.

"You seem quite eager~"

"Eager to show you how to do it right."

"Right?" Francis scoffed. "I know how to do it _perfectly_."

Arthur unbuttoned Francis's shirt. "Shut your trap and watch and learn." He took off his tie and shirt, tossing them somewhere to the side. He then rid himself of his shoes and socks and stripped Francis down to his underwear. Arthur stared down at him for a few moments, studying him. So this was the body that made girls swoon and guys turn? Arthur felt it needed… his own little touch.

He glanced to his side and found Kiku there, the man blushing at his noticing how close he was to the action. "Hand me one of those boxes up there, will you?"

Kiku blushed and did so. Arthur took it, set it down beside him in plain sight of the man below him, rummaging around inside. If Elizaveta wanted a show, he'd give her a show all right—and he would have a good tape of him fucking Francis to be used in a tight spot when needed. Sure, he hadn't liked the idea of stripping and performing before, but if there was going to be an audience for this he might as well show his dominance. Especially with Francis.

"Hungary has quite a collection," he said as he lined up the toys and lube side by side: some anal beads, a jelly dildo, ribbed bullet vibrators, a textured masturbator, cock rings, nipple clamps, stimulating lubricants, and a prostate massager. And to think there were more toys in the other boxes…

Francis was staring at the array of items. They weren't the cheap sort at all—in fact, they looked vaguely similar to the products Francis himself bought from a high end pleasure company…

Elizaveta had _definitely _done some planning.

Arthur scanned the toys, assessing in what order he should use them. Because he would _most_ _assuredly _be utilizing them all. His eyes wandered back to Francis to find the man looking expectantly up at him. That cocky look would be gone soon enough.

"Sit up," Arthur commanded, going into domination mode in the blink of an eye.

Francis quite liked Arthur's tone. He did as he was told and found Arthur's tongue forcing its way into his mouth. He moaned and allowed the other man to explore, tongues sliding back and forth, lips brushing, growing swollen. Francis tasted like mint, and Arthur like tea—go figure. Francis had to admit he favored other tastes, but it reminded him that this was Arthur he was kissing, not someone else.

And just like that, Arthur's mouth left his, and he was left wanting, almost whining before he caught himself. Arthur's lips trailed down his jaw to his neck, where he made sure to thoroughly tease every inch of skin. He quickly found Francis's hotspot, sucking and biting down on it until it was large and red and Francis was clutching at his hair, gasping out a string of rapid, heated French that made Matthew flush. Arthur then dipped lower, running a tongue around a nipple before nipping it, pulling on it with his teeth until the nub was pert and red. He did the same to the other.

"Oh, oui, oh, Angleterre~" Francis moaned, and then he felt Arthur pull away. The next thing he felt was a painful pinch, and he looked down to see Arthur attaching the clamps to him. The Brit smirked up at him as he turned the adjusting knob and enjoyed his expressions as he increased the pressure on Francis's nipples.

Just when Francis thought surely the nubs would be squashed, Arthur stopped, leaving him trembling and heavy of breath. The Briton's hand dipped lower to take Francis's cock in hand.

He scoffed when he felt it was already hard. "Of course, you lecher."

"You say I'm a lecher when you're the one attaching nipple clamps to me," Francis quipped, whining when Arthur clipped a cock ring around him.

"Oh, don't get too comfortable. I'm not nearly finished yet," Arthur told him and pushed on his chest. "Down."

Francis lowered himself down onto his back, but Arthur shook his head. "Hands and knees," he ordered, and Francis frowned, turning over. He tucked his knees under him and lifted his ass to Arthur, spreading his legs.

"Like this~?" he purred.

Arthur didn't respond, too busy going over what he would stick in Francis's ass first. The beads would work.

Francis's heart sped up when he heard Arthur pop open the cap to the lube. He glanced behind him. "Cher?"

"I didn't say you could look. Turn around," Arthur snapped, and Francis obeyed.

Arthur, meanwhile, assumed Francis didn't need much preparation. He was a frog, and frogs could take it up the ass any time, anywhere, without need of lubrication. He _did _lube the toy up, though. The last thing he wanted was for Francis to bleed all over it.

When Francis felt the tip of something poke at his entrance, he pushed back. Arthur grabbed his hips and kept them in place. "Still," he commanded, and continued to slip the beads in. It was hard for Francis not to move. The beads slowly went in, going from as small as the tip of his pinky to as large as a baseball. When the biggest part nudged at his entrance and forced its way inside, his insides seared with pain, but it only lasted for a few seconds. After that, his ass swallowed the bead. The lube heated his insides, making them clench before loosening, over and over, tingling and wanting. He moaned.

Arthur cocked his head, studying the fluttering hole. "Interesting. It looks like it wants more. Typical of a frog."

Francis frowned. "Euh… Angleterre, I don't think—"

"I don't care what you think," Arthur said. "I'll do what I want to you, and you will listen to me if you want to get anything out of it."

Francis stiffened when he felt what could only be one of the slicked bullet vibrators circling the taut skin that surrounded his filled hole. He bit his lip as Arthur hooked a finger in and pulled to make room, shoving the toy inside. Francis bit his lip as it slid past the largest bead.

At this point, Kiku had stopped recording—he'd buy the film from Elizaveta afterward, but he still worried about his own performance (because a _performance _was what it was). There were _some _people in the Box that he would rather not have in him… and he knew he would most likely bottom in any case—he'd read his own doujinshis; he knew what the fangirls wanted. But that didn't mean he had submitted, oh no—he liked to top, and he wasn't prepared to let everyone think of him as a one-trick pony. As Feliks would say, at least.

Still, as Kiku watched Arthur he felt an urge to submit. It was no lie that he wanted Arthur—everyone wanted the man in some way. He had been a former empire, why not? And as conservative as he was, his hand dipped into his slacks. Practically everyone else was doing it anyway, however obvious or discreet they may be. Still, he made sure to touch himself where no one could see.

Alfred was in complete shock. Sure, there were _some _nations who'd been the lucky bastards to have slept with Arthur and had told Alfred what the experience curtailed, but he hadn't believed any of it… until now. Honestly, how else was Alfred supposed to view Arthur when he was acting like such a snob and a prude all the time with his little teacup and saucer and crocheting? This was definitely a what-the-fuck moment. He was staring, unable to take his eyes off of the scene, not even noticing he was starting to rub himself very obviously. It was too bad Arthur's back was too him, though he got a good view of the Briton's ass—his cock was what he really wanted to see. That was all the damn aphrodisiac had him focused on lately. Cock.

Matthew knew he _should not _be enjoying the almost sadistic way Arthur was treating Francis, but his dick betrayed him. _It's just the aphrodisiac. The aphrodisiac, yeah… _But just watching Arthur stuff more into Francis's already stretched asshole was having a much greater effect on him. He hadn't slept with Arthur (though he had come really close once when Arthur was drunk and had mistaken Matthew for Alfred), but he knew all the rumors. And knowing how Arthur was with his temper and how he favored control after losing Alfred, Matthew hadn't been all that surprised to hear them and assumed they were true enough. But seeing it… seeing it was a_ whole other thing._

As for Francis… he had pretty much nailed everyone in the room at _some _point—all except Feliciano, of course—even Ivan when he was younger… but not Arthur.

The vibrator pushed into Francis past the largest bead, stretching him as wide as he had ever been. He was grateful for the copious amount of lube Arthur had doused the toys in, but stretching him beforehand would have been helpful.

The wire to the toy trailed out of his ass, Arthur holding the remote to it. He studied the levels of vibration. "Hmm, let's start out big for our audience, shall we?" he said and pressed the highest level.

Francis arched his back and dug his fingers into the carpet, crying out as his insides were stretched impossibly wide by the vibrations. Just when he thought he was going to tear, Arthur switched it off, and Francis pressed his forehead to the floor, panting, heart fluttering.

Arthur smirked. He liked that desperate sound Francis had made. But he meant to build upon that until Francis was screaming—begging—for him to let him come. So he slicked up the other vibrator and pressed it in. Francis's breath caught and he winced, his insides tensing up unintentionally.

"Now, now," Arthur chided. "I thought the French had discipline when it came to this. Open yourself up or I might tear you."

"N-non, Anglete—" Francis began, but a cry worked up from his throat and he felt every burning inch of the toy enter him. Once it was in, Francis knew he couldn't take anymore. He was stretched so taut, he was afraid to move for fear of hurting himself. Then Arthur took both remotes in hand.

"Let's start slow," Arthur said, and Francis relaxed a bit, which was a good thing because the Briton grabbed the ring at the end of the beads and pulled. Francis grunted as the largest bead pushed at the ring of muscle until it popped out with a _squelch_. Once that was through, Francis could enjoy the sensation of the smaller beads rubbing against his insides as they left him, his ass clinging to them.

"For all your yelling, your arse seems to want it enough," Arthur observed, sliding the beads back in. Francis grunted as the baseball-sized bead entered him again, jostling the vibrators, and then exited him, his insides rubbed teasingly. Arthur picked up the pace and depth until the beads were forcing the vibrators to move with them and Francis's cock was leaking around the ring that bound it.

"Ah, mm, oui, là, s'il vous—"

"Swallow your frog tongue, France," Arthur snapped. "I will hear no French from you. As long as I am in charge, you will speak the proper Queen's English."

"Désolé—" Arthur stopped moving the beads, and Francis quickly corrected, "Sorry, cher-um, dear. I will speak English from… unh, n-now on."

"Very good," Arthur commended and continued to move the beads in and out of him.

Francis was soon at his limit, his cock swelling painfully around the ring. "U-uh, Ang—England, I cannot—"

"You want more, is it?" Arthur asked, and before Francis could reply, Arthur had snatched up the remotes and turned the vibrators up to the first level. Francis stiffened before moaning softly, shifting his hips to try and get the toys closer to his sweet spot. The beads were still moving in him, forcing the other toys back and forth. But they were still agonizingly shy of his prostate.

Arthur saw Francis trembling with want, his cock leaking onto the carpet beneath him, and licked his lips. The power that came with seeing Francis submit was like a flush of arousal to his entire body. He kept his eyes trained on Francis's ass, enjoying the sight of it stretched to its limit, how it swallowed anything given to it. He turned the vibration up, wanting to see Francis break.

"Oh! God!" Francis yelled as the toys moved ever closer to his prostate and, with help from the beads, touched it. Both of them. _At the same time._ "Yes, yes!"

Arthur decided to kick things up a notch. He reached around and slid Francis's cock into the masturbator, moving it in time with the thrusting of the beads. The lubed rubber gripped the shaft like a vice and the textured tip teased the head. Francis moaned at the intense suction it created, and Arthur turned the vibrators up to the highest level.

"Yes! England!" Francis moaned. His prostate was being teased so much it almost hurt, and his cock was leaking so much he doubted he needed lube anymore. The chain that connected the nipple clamps was swinging, slapping against his chest, the force of it pulling the nubs to the point of soreness. The beads were now burning with the rapidity at which they were thrusting in and out of him, and Arthur's movements became so forceful and haphazard that the rounded points of the masturbator slid into Francis's slit.

_"Yes!" _Francis cried, then he came—or he would have, if the cock ring hadn't been on. He could feel his cock throbbing beneath it, the backfire of cum making it feel as though the plastic had dug into the muscle. His balls strained, the pain pulsing up his shaft. All that came out was precum. He gave a huff of dismay.

"You are cruel, ami."

Francis squeaked as Arthur landed a slap to his ass. "No French. And if you claim to be the master of sex, then you should have had more control of your body."

Francis gaped at him. "It was a natural reaction! And you are torturing me!"

Arthur smirked. "Good." And he slipped Francis's cock out of the masturbator, watching the precum drip out of it. "What a mess. Clean it." He brought it to Francis's mouth.

It brushed Francis's lips and Francis stuck out his tongue, running it along the inside, tasting himself and the rubber of the toy. It tasted like dissatisfaction.

When he was finished and Arthur pulled it away, Francis said, "Please fuck me. I can't take anymore."

Arthur raised an eyebrow. "Really? Well, not to say that I'm surprised with you surrendering so early, but I'm far from finished. I plan to have you screaming for my cock. Now." He turned the vibrators off and pulled the beads out, followed by the other toys. Francis winced as they left him wetly and dropped, slick, to the floor. Arthur smiled at his now gaping hole. "To fill your arse again." He grabbed the jelly dildo, not bothering to slick it up, and slipped it in. He was pleased to see Francis's ass close around it, suck it in. Arthur's own cock was solid meat between his legs.

Francis moaned when he felt a cock enter him, but then he realized it was not the cock he wanted. Arthur began to thrust it, aiming it at Francis's prostate. The ribs of it offered delicious friction and the plump head got to all of his prostate.

"Oh, mmm, harder, please," Francis begged.

Arthur took it out, Francis whimpering. "Please, England," he urged. "Please." He didn't think he could take anymore teasing before he came again, and he didn't look forward to the painful sensation it would cause with the cock ring on. He whined when he felt the dildo slide out of him.

His head was in his arms and Arthur said, "Lift your head." Francis did and came face to face with the dildo that had just been in his ass. "Suck," Arthur ordered, and Francis, although displeased, did so. "And I don't want to see you just holding it in your mouth. Suck it like you would a proper cock. I'd better hear you doing it."

Francis nodded and ran a tongue around the head, which had previously been pressed deliciously against his prostate. He could taste himself and that quickly turned him on. Arthur forced ass-to-mouth. Now he was truly his bitch. The thought made him want the man in his ass even more. He hollowed his cheeks, being sure to let Arthur hear the suction. Matthew was sitting in front of him, not so invisible with his massive cock out and stroking. Francis focused on his hand moving up and down the shaft, imagining the toy in his mouth was him.

With the jelly dildo gone, Francis was open and ready, excited. He tried his best to look appetizing. He would be getting Arthur's cock now for sure.

But he was quickly dejected when he felt something long and thin and glasslike slide into him. Only when Arthur twisted it a bit and the bulb of it brushed his prostate did he know what it was.

_Prostate massager._

He was done for.

The way Arthur was pressing and then rubbing and pressing again was turning Francis into a shivering puddle of arousal. Arthur would bring Francis to the very edge and then draw back, letting him cool a bit before going in again. It was driving Francis insane.

Arthur quite liked the way Francis was shuddering with every press of the bulb, the way his hole was flexing in and out, the desperate, slutty sounds he was making. It was almost as torturous as his teasing Francis, observing like this.

As a final show of dominance, Arthur reached down and pulled the chain on the nipple clamps _hard_. Francis shouted.

"No, England, you're going to—!" And Francis came again, the force of it stronger than the last, the new cum joining the old, building up behind the cock ring, swelling his cock until he was sure it would burst. The pain was almost blinding, but the bulb against his prostate was enough to retain his sanity. He whimpered. Arthur wet his lips again, watching Francis's cock throb with the strain.

The massager was out of Francis before he could blink, and before he could beg, Arthur was inside of him. "Oh, Arthur~!"

His pain was forgotten, and all he could think or do revolved around him being filled. There was one thing for certain: Arthur _was not_ small. It was more than a pleasant surprise, and Francis moved with him, making sure he got as deep as possible. His balls ached, his whole cock was burning, and he wanted to come so badly he was going out of his mind, but he wanted Arthur in him for as long as possible. Matthew coming explosively in front of him wasn't helping his restraint.

Arthur was amazed at how tight Francis felt, even after such thorough stretching. It was no wonder that the Frenchman had so many lays if he possessed such elasticity. His hands locked onto Francis's hips, driving his cock into him hard and fast. Francis's prostate was so swollen from the teasing that it was not hard to find, and Francis actually found himself drooling.

Francis was seeing white already and he was so far gone that he almost forgot about the cock ring his tortured dick was straining beneath. "Arthur, the ring! Please!" He was almost in tears. If Arthur wouldn't let him come for the third time, he wasn't altogether sure if he could keep himself from crying.

Arthur was in a daze as well, his only instinct to fuck, and it took him a good few moments to remember what a cock ring even _was_ nonetheless how to get the damned thing off. As soon as it was, though, Francis exploded, coming in harsh, hot bursts that back-splattered onto his front when they hit the carpet, yelling Arthur's name over and over. Francis saw white and was sure he would pass out, but he didn't, riding it out. Even when he thought his orgasm was over, he just kept coming. Every of Arthur's hard thrusts forced more cum to shoot from Francis's pulsing cock.

Seeing Francis's body tense and his hips lurch uncontrollably forward in orgasm pushed Arthur over the edge. Francis's body squeezed around him, constricting him, milking him of cum until his whole ass was filled with his seed. Even after he was spent he kept fucking Francis, determined to get as much of his tight, pulsing ass as he could.

Francis was trembling and could barely hold himself up, but he liked the feel of Arthur in him and was loath to part with him so soon. Eventually, Arthur slowed, panting, and released Francis, leaving his fingerprints bruised into the Frenchman's skin. He pulled out, and Francis whined. He slapped the still upraised ass, watching his cum run out. "That's enough cock for you, greedy slag."

Francis sighed and fell to the floor, turning over and looking up at him, face flushed with sex and cock still throbbing between his legs. "Mind removing these, then?" Francis asked, tugging lightly at the chain attached to the nipple clamps.

Arthur unclipped them and tossed them off to the side with his other used toys. Francis's nipples were left stretched long and swollen. Arthur wanted to suck them.

But he didn't. He didn't think he could recover that quickly nonetheless be ready for another round, and everyone knew Francis would be more than ready anyway. Besides, his back hurt like all hell. He examined Francis's mussed hair, sweaty, shining skin, and cum-splattered stomach. He smiled smugly. "You certainly look fucked."

Francis smirked, spreading his legs, allowing everyone to see his blown-out, cum-filled hole. "Not nearly fucked _enough_, cher."

Arthur rolled his eyes. "Oh, please. I had you on the verge of swooning. You couldn't take much more sex before you passed out. Not to say you wouldn't be less annoying to fuck when unconscious, but I'm completely spent for now."

Francis ignored most of his comment and sat up, wincing at the soreness in his ass. Arthur noticed and smirked. "'For now'?" Francis said in mock innocence.

Arthur's smile widened. "For now. Later I plan to go for someone else." Alfred flushed down to his neck when Arthur's eyes wandered to him, then back to Francis.

"Ohonhon, well if not with me, why not together? I have _plans _as well." He glanced at Matthew, who swallowed, his hand covered in cum, though he was trying to hide it. Francis wouldn't mind licking it off for him, but he knew how embarrassed that would make the Canadian, and he didn't want all that cuteness wasted just for a taste of him.

Arthur raised his eyebrows. "I do believe we've put on a good show for them. It would only be fair if they did the same for us."

Francis's smile was no less than wicked now. "Oh, I like how you think, Angleterre."

"You liked how I thought the first time I stuck those toys in you. Now," he turned to Alfred. The American was still naked, and his flushed, hardened cock stood out like a beacon between his legs, his hand still around it, "go on, Alfred, don't you want to clean Matthew up?"

Alfred was in shock to say the least. First of all, when in the _fuck _did Arthur get that amazingly sexy expression? And, secondly, why the _hell _hadn't Alfred ever seen it before? Now he was put on the spot, and he glanced at Matthew, who was just as wide-eyed. Then his gaze dropped lower to the… delicious mess on his skin. Oh fuck, everything in him _needed _to taste his brother, despite having had him in his mouth and down his throat not even an hour ago. Fucking aphrodisiac.

Arthur was impressed that Alfred had listened to him for once as the American crossed the room and pushed Matthew onto his back. The Canadian was beet red, whispering, "Al, what the hell are you doing? Do you want to come off as a… a slut?"

Alfred peered up at him through his lashes. "Why hide what I am?" And he licked up a glob of cum.

* * *

><p><span>Translations:<span>

là-there

Désolé-sorry

A Word From the Writer: So, what happens when you kiss a frog? He turns into a bitch, that's for sure. Sorry these are taking so long. I just have a lot to do. There's not much more to say except the next chapter will be a little threesome between Russia, America, and Canada. It will be mostly oral, though someone will be fucked in the end. I bet you can guess who will get sucked~

As for all of the other nations who are suffering from bad cases of blueballs (Japan, China, Germany, etc), they will eventually have their turn and when they do, it'll be hawt.

Until next time, my fellow pervs~!


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